


The Journey

by TheWolves24



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Drama, Drama & Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Marriage, Tears, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-13 12:02:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10513380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWolves24/pseuds/TheWolves24
Summary: This is my nord Mallorees story, starting with after she gets out of the Dark Brotherhood. She is married to Brynjolf in my game and in this story.





	1. Chapter 1

Malloree shook as she washed her hands in the river water, shaking her head so her cowl would fall down on her shoulders. Taking quick breaths in, she wiped the tears from her eyes, ashamed of the deed she had just done.

She was done now, that was the light at the end of her tunnel at the moment.

The Emperor was dead, the contract done, finished.

The news was all over Skyrim, most of the guards in the holds now looking for her.

How had she fallen into this trap that was the Dark Brotherhood?

She still smelt the blood on her hands, most of it from the sailors she slaughtered in order to get to the Emperor.

Kneeling down again, she rewashed her hands several times, scrubbing vigorously at her pale skin, wanting to feel their softness again.

 

After some time, she finally felt alright with the clean up, and set her hood up again, wanting to go home now.

Moving her Daedric bow on her shoulder, a thought stopped her cold.

Brynjolf.

Gods above, what would he say?

She couldn't be away from her son's any longer though, they needed her, and she wanted to see them. She couldn't wait to retrieve the flowers that they always picked for her after she came back from a long adventure.

She just wasn't sure if she could face it.

 

The trip to Solitude was a boring one. Thank the Gods nothing big had come after her, usually, she was fighting off trolls, spiders, bandits, vampires, and mages. Not this time, this time she just encountered a couple of wolves.

Easily taken care of.

Stopping at the cities gates, she looked above, seeing the stars glisten down at her.

And the shame rolled through her even harder now.

Pushing it down, she opened the cities gates, and made her way to her home.

 

The boys were asleep when she came in, her housecarl greeting her promptly, her blue eyes looking over her attire, a fearful expression on her face.

The same guilt bubbled up, and she just wanted to rip off her armor.

Putting her bow on a weapons rack, she grabbed the buttons to her armor, plucking them open, to take the garment off, not wanting to ever put it on again.

A voice though, stopped her cold...

"What the hell is this, lass?"

Gulping, Malloree turned to her husband, his emerald eyes showing confusion.

Saying nothing, Malloree twiddled her fingers, waiting for him to stop staring at her with that wide-eyed, horrified expression.

In a few strides though, he was in front of her, grabbing her bicep, "Answer me, lass."

His voice, and the hardness of his grip made Malloree squirm, trying to shake him loose.

"I'll tell you. Just let me undress!" She snapped, pulling away from him finally.

 

He was waiting in their room, his back towards her, his broad back stiff from the tension in the room.

Malloree got his attention by shutting the door.

He glared at her, stomping forward to sit in a chair.

"Well. I'm waiting." He told her, his Scottish brogue stronger with his anger.

Malloree moved her hair and put it over her shoulder, sitting on the bed.

"I-I, I don't know, it's hard to explain." She started, hearing him grunt, his fingers thrumming on the table in the room, expecting more out of her explanation.

Silence.

"Continue." He snapped at her, picking up a mug of ale and slamming it back.

Malloree stood up, hands clenched.

"I don't need to explain anything to you! I-I wanted to learn a few new things alright. For God's sake Brynjolf, we're thieves! Do you honestly think we're clean of sin?!"

Glaring, he stood up as well.

"No, lass, _you're_ a murderer."

The word made her chest constrict, and she saw his mouth close, shame flitting across his features.

"I-I..." He started, moving to touch her.

Malloree stood up straighter, coughing lightly.

"Fine. I'm sorry this _murderer_ graced you with her presence. I won't be staying here then, wouldn't want to _contaminate_ our home."

She moved to walk past him, but his hand whipped out to clasp her bicep, dragging her against him.

"Ye aren't going anywhere, lassie." He said to her, throwing her down on the bed, to stare up at him.

Malloree tried again, but this time, he gripped both biceps in his hands and held her there, his emerald eyes burning.

"Stay still, damnit." He snapped, shaking her lightly.

Malloree stopped moving, but refused to look at him, afraid of what she would see in his irises.

"I don't know why you joined them lass, and I don't think I'll ever understand. But, that's your business. I need not know what you've done. And I have no place to judge you, for my hands are thick with blood as well."

She flinched, but continued to listen.

"But, I'm not letting you out of my sight again. I've been worried about you." He sighed, his fingers now soft on her.

The tears bunched up in her eyes, but she clenched them, willing them not to fall.

Damn him, he could read her!

Moving his hand up to cup her chin, he raised her eyes to meet his own, sighing when he saw a couple of tears roll down her cheeks.

"Let's just go to bed. I'm sure you're exhausted." He muttered, pulling away from her.

 

 

Malloree laid in bed that night, feeling Brynjolf toss and turn, grumbling incoherently. Several times, he sat up, rubbing his eyes, but Malloree could feel his eyes on her, a soft sigh hitting the air.

Usually, they made love when they returned from adventures, their night full of passion.

Not tonight.

Malloree didn't sleep at all, afraid of what she would see if she closed her eyes.

The faces of her innocent victims?

Maybe it would be alduin's screams tonight?

Or maybe, the cry of Mercer Frey as she slit his throat?

It was a jumble of everything most nights, and usually with Brynjolf beside her, she got through the nightmares, and managed to sleep a little bit.

But, he couldn't seem to lay beside a murderer.

The same burning hit her eyes, and she curled into herself, wishing her curiosities hadn't pulled her further into the darkness.

 

The morning sun hit her face, and she rolled onto her back, noticing the empty space beside her.

He had been gone awhile.

Malloree heard the laughing of her sons as they drummed lightly on their toys, one of them laughing at a sentence they read out loud from one of their stories.

Sitting up, she ran her fingers through her hair, needing to wash it sometime today. Standing up, she went to her dresser, and pulled on a red day dress, finding her boots to adorn with it.

She had things to do today, she needed to sell off some of the things she had managed to pick up, and she needed to purchase more elven arrows for her Auriel's bow.

Stretching, she patted her eyes, hoping they weren't swollen from crying last night.

Sighing, she smoothed her skirts out, and left her room.

 

"Ma!" Blaise yelled, throwing his arms around her waist, squeezing.

"Hello, Blaise." She said to him, patting his black hair.

"When did you get back?" He asked, letting go of her to move back and take in her expression.

"Late last night." She said, ruffling his hair.

"Where's pa? Did he leave?" He asked.

Malloree felt a weight drop into her stomach, feeling a wave of uneasiness set over her.

"I'm not sure, maybe he went into the market." She said to Blaise, seeing the confusion on his face fall away.

"Did you bring me anything?"

Malloree smiled, walking into her room, rummaging through her things, finally finding what she was looking for.

"Now. It's not the real thing, because I think that's a little too dangerous at your age. But, it's the next best thing, and, you can practice with your brother." Malloree said, pulling out a wooden sword, handing it, handle first to her son.

"Wow! Do you think da will train me?"

Malloree nodded.

"I can train you to. If you'd like?"

Blaise furrowed his eyebrow, "Thanks, but no thanks ma. I know you're strong, but, you're a woman, I would never take arms against a woman, especially my mother." He finished, looking the wooden sword over.

"Well, aren't you a little gentleman." Malloree said, smiling.

 

Walking through the market, Malloree looked out for Brynjolf, he would usually be hanging out in the shadows. He was always watching people, taking in the new people who came through the town.

 That was how he met Malloree.

Sly fox.

Malloree grinned, remembering back to where she had just joined the thieves guild.

She however, felt that thought fade away, and the new thought of their fight last night take its place.

The dread hit her stomach again, leaving a bad taste in her mouth. She pushed it back though, willing her thoughts to go to a happier place, so she could have a good day.

Strolling over to bit's and pieces, Malloree entered, hearing the guard greet her.

"Morning Dovahkiin, if you need anything, just let me know."

Then the door closed.

 

"Greetings!" Sayma, the shopkeeper welcomed, smiling widely, "Good morning, Malloree, have anything good to sell me today?"

The Nord woman nodded her head, digging into her pockets, grazing a few rubies.

"You know it, Sayma." She replied, setting the glistening stones on the counter.

 

Malloree left the store, looking up to the Fletcher above.

She walked up the slope, enjoying the bang of the hammer from the Blacksmith, relishing in the coolness of the wind.

It really helped to clear her mind, and that was always nice.

 

Malloree walked into the shop, seeing Fihada leaning over the counter, seeing his icy blue eyes look her over, a dirty smirk setting over his face.

"Well, well. Lookie here, a beautiful lady gracing me with her presence." He said, looking her over, taking in her breasts that graced the top of her dress.

"Fihada. We talk about this every time I come in here. And, last time, my husband was with me. Please stop with the perversions, they will _never_ be returned." She snapped at him, pulling out her coin purse.

Smirking even harder now, he leaned over the counter towards her, "Keep telling yourself that darlin."

Glaring, she felt her fingers itch to clutch her Mehrune's Razor, wanting to wipe that stupid look off his face.

But, she wouldn't, he wasn't worth it.

 

Now in a rather foul mood, she made her way back home, hearing her stomach gurgle, it had been awhile since she had eaten.

Pushing the door open, she heard arguing.

"You aren't good at blocking!"

"You're the one who cheated!"

It was Alesan and Blaise.

Malloree laid her elven arrows ontop of a drawer set and went over to the two boys.

Folding her arms, she stopped behind Blaise, drawing Alesan's attention.

The boy was about to retaliate to his brother, but snapped his mouth shut, looking away from her angry eyes.

Blaise turned, seeing her.

"Oh. Hi, ma." He said, in an innocent voice.

"I heard you two fighting. If you can't play nicely, then I'm taking those swords away from you. Is that understood?" She told them, watching their heads lag in defeat.

"Yes, ma." They said in unison, throwing dark looks at the other.

"Good. Now, it's a lovely day outside. I think you two should go play."

 

The only people in the house now were her and Jordis, who was eating in front of the entrance.

Malloree went over to her, sitting down beside the woman, feeling her eyes on her.

"Honor to you, Thane." She said, biting into her bread again.

"Jordis. My name is Malloree, how many times must we go over this?" Malloree questioned her, taking a fork to scoop up some seared salmon.

She nodded, understanding. But Malloree had no doubt they'd be going over it again, for the hundredth time.

Silence.

Malloree cleared her throat after a few bites of salmon.

"Have you seen Brynjolf today?"

Jordis nodded, "Aye. He left very early this morning. He said he needed to take a walk."

Malloree felt anger boil this time, not understanding why he told the housecarl that and not his own wife.

"Well, did he say when he'd be back?"

Jordis shook her head.

 

Malloree was heading out the cities gates, shrugging her knapsack onto her shoulder, gazing up at the sky. The sun was shining hotly, beaming down on her form. Due to the directness in the sky, it was probably between three and four in the afternoon now.

And still no sign of Brynjolf.

Sighing sadly, Malloree wondered where he had gone to.

And if he would come back.

They were married, but she wouldn't hold it against him if he couldn't come home and lay beside a murderer.

Walking around the big farm that loomed ahead of her, she took to the lakes banks, seeing the spot she usually bathed at.

It was a small rocky area, one rock just big enough to cover a person from bathing.

Thank goodness.

 

Malloree was shrugging out of her dress, looking around once more, making sure no-one was sneaking up on her.

Gazing in the water, she made sure no slaughterfish were in the area. They stayed away most of the time when she was in the water, knowing what their fate would be if they swam up on her.

Sighing, Malloree stuck her feet in the water, shivering at the cold as it seeped into her skin.

Getting in smoothly, she grabbed at the scented soap she had bought from the clothing shop, the snide woman almost throwing the bar at her.

 

Wading to the rock, Malloree duck her head into the water, rubbing the soap into her tresses, brushing them through, relishing in the water that washed away the dirt.

After washing her hair, she scrubbed at her skin, humming lightly.

 

After finishing her wash, she laid her head back against the stone, sighing slightly, wishing Brynjolf would come back.

He needed time though, she knew that.

She just wished he would talk to her about what he was feeling.

They were both not that great at opening up. Malloree herself didn't talk too much, or smile. She had been that way her entire life, and after she lost her parents, she hardly displayed any expression at all.

Everyone thought of her as stuck-up when she did that.

But, she couldn't help it.

She was just naturally very 'in her head.'

 

Standing up out of the water, she brushed the water off her skin, grabbing a clean, green dress, shrugging it on.

Time to head back.

The sun was starting to loom low in the sky, signaling the fall of darkness it about two hours.

 

Malloree made her way back to Proudspire Manor, hopeful of the night ahead, wanting to speak to Brynjolf, wanting to just make sure he came _back_ to her.

She didn't want to think of what she would do if he didn't.

 

 

Alright everybody, I had a completely different take to this chapter, but my damn internet went down and deleted the entire half of it. So, I've decided to save it for the next chapter.

I hope you've enjoyed it so far.

Review and tell me what you think.

Love,

Heather.

Plus, my other stories will be updated soon!

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Malloree laid in bed that night, the slow burn of fear tying her stomach in knots, not allowing her to sleep at all.

 

Brynjolf hadn't come back, and it was close to midnight.

 

Was he gone?

 

Had he left due to her decision to become involved in the dark brotherhood?

 

She hoped not.

 

Sighing, she shut her eyes, willing her thoughts to stray to something different.

 

Suddenly, the door to the room flung open, and she sat up quickly, seeing...

 

Her husband.

 

And he was very intoxicated.

 

"Oy, hey there, lassie." He said to her, wiping his mouth, chuckling lightly.

 

Malloree glared at him, rising from the bed, hurrying over to the door to shut and lock it firmly.

 

"Go lay down." She snapped, "You're drunk."

 

"I'm only a little drunk woman, get off my back." He said, falling onto the bedspread.

 

Malloree crossed her arms, looking him over. Well, he didn't seem to have any injuries, usually if he became too intoxicated he'd start a brawl with someone in a tavern, and, well that never turned out well.

 

"Where have you been?" She questioned, the cool air of the house giving her goose pimples, her thin nightgown not giving her any heat at all.

 

Brynjolf was fiddling with his guild armor, not succeeding in getting it off his person.

 

"D-Dragon Bridge." He muttered, falling across the bed spread, his chest rising and falling softly.

 

Malloree sighed, walking over to her now passed out husband.

 

Touching his cheek softly, she started to unbutton his tunic, watching the latches and fastenings, knowing how to unbutton the armor expertly by now. Getting the buttons undone, she managed to move his arms out of the tight leather. His chest was warm when she touched his flesh, his red hairs getting caught between her fingers. Grunting soundly, he swatted lightly at her hands, then they fell back down beside his head.

 

Malloree rolled her eyes, now moving to concentrate on his boots. Unlacing the ties, she pulled them off of him, setting them down gently on the floor beside the bed.

 

Now, was the part that made her flush from head to toe.

 

His pants.

 

Taking a deep breath in, she started to work the buttons, shimmying the material down his hips, noticing he wore nothing beneath it.

 

Typical.

 

His manhood lay limp against his inner thigh, and Malloree looked away quickly, still shy at the thought of that...part of him.

 

Moving his limp form, she grabbed the covers and folded them over him.

 

He was snoring by the time she climbed into bed beside him.

 

Smiling at his snores, Malloree was lulled into a deep sleep.

 

 

  
She awoke the next morning with an arm flung over her side, hot breathing on the nape of her neck. The breath was bringing little tingles down her spine. Turning in his arms, she looked into his face, seeing his eyebrows furrowed, almost in anger.

 

Moving her hand out, she traced the scar on his cheek, knowing it was a sensitive topic for him.

 

He had told her the story not to long into their marriage. It was back when he had just joined the thieves guild. He had a contract in Whiterun, and got caught trespassing. Well, he thought it would be wise to take on several guards. And needless to say, he had lost. One of the soldiers swords had cut his cheek to the bone, almost costing Brynjolf his life, due to blood loss.

 

Malloree had her own scars as well. There were two of them, right beneath her eye.

 

A wolf had made those.

 

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed the green eyes that were staring at her.

 

Her blue eyes clashed with his green eyes and she jumped lightly.

 

Smiling at her reaction, he yawned, taking a deep breath.

 

Silence.

 

"Lass. I'm sorry for what happened yesterday. I didn't want to stay here and say anything I would regret, like the night that you came home. I needed time to clear my head." He finished, in a low whisper.

 

Malloree nodded.

 

"I-I was worried you wouldn't return." She said, feeling the pain in her chest.

 

She didn't expect him to chuckle, but he did.

 

"I would never do anything like that. The only way you'll be rid of me is if I were to meet an untimely death. And maybe not even then." He said, rubbing her hand underneath the blanket.

 

Malloree smiled and nodded, glad to hear those words from him.

 

Silence.

 

Looking at him, Malloree suddenly leaned forward, capturing his mouth with hers. Moving her hand up, she scratched his chest with her nails, eliciting a small groan from the man beside her.

 

Taking it further, she ran her fingers down, down his abdomen, to his pelvis, feeling his hard manhood graze her hand. Feeling bold, she cupped his appendage in her hand, feeling him jerk instinctively into her warm palm.

 

His emerald eyes clashed with hers, his moan of pleasure making her burn for him in her nether regions.

 

He moved his hips in time with her hand movements, her fingers gingerly stroking up and down his shaft.

 

Pressing his lips to hers, his hand came down on hers, moving it off his person. Malloree looked at him, about to question why he stopped her when suddenly, he flipped over to where he was now on top of her.

 

Malloree gasped, feeling his manhood now brush her inner thigh, so close to where she needed it to be.

 

Brynjolf pressed his mouth to hers once again, his knee nudging her legs apart, his hands going to the hem of her nightgown, yanking it up to where it was now around her hips.

 

Malloree arched her back, wanting him to touch her there...

 

He did. He cupped her sex, his mouth now kissing down her neck, sucking lightly on her skin, earning small moans from her.

 

His mouth ended up at her ear, and he was muttering words in gaelic to her. Malloree didn't understand what he was saying, but his husky voice did what it was supposed to.

It sent shock waves to her womanhood.

 

Brynjolf dipped his fingers inside of her wetness, eliciting a high squeal from her.

 

"Shh now lass, don't want to attract the bairns, do you?"

 

She hardly heard him, feeling nothing but the pleasure he was bringing her.

 

Curving slightly upward, he hit the sensitive spot inside of her, making her toes curl. Trying her hardest to remain quiet, she threw her hand over her mouth, clenching her eyes shut.

 

Brynjolf himself was panting, pulling his hand from her womanhood, grabbing his own manhood to align himself with her entrance. Shoving forward, he was inside of her, his hands moving up to tangle in her hair, pulling her eyes to meet his, as their bodies met with each other.

 

Malloree was squirming, wanting to feel him fully inside of her.

 

He complied, generously.

 

Grabbing her leg, he hoisted it up to where it now lay on his shoulder, his hips gyrating against hers roughly, a long whimper hitting his ears.

 

Malloree couldn't help the pleasure that ripped up her spine at the new depth.  
   
She could just imagine his back, the flexing of his muscles as he slowly thrust inside of her. It was enough to get her pleasure to mount so she could tumble over that precipice that made her lose all thought, and sail into heaven. Malloree could just envision his glorious backside, as his butt flexed with what his male appendage was doing to her.

 

That was enough. It had been awhile since she had had this release, and she was strung tight.

 

Arching her back, she grunted, covering her mouth with her hand, wriggling from the intense pressure that was now exploding throughout her pelvis, womanhood and anus. The intenseness of the orgasm made her eyes water, a tear falling down her cheek.

 

Brynjolf picked up his speed, feeling her inner walls flutter on his manhood. The look on her face was the thing that did him in though.

 

Turning his head, he groaned, long and low into her inner knee, his hips snapping in time with the spurts of his seed.

 

After he was done, he collapsed to the side, gathering her quivering form in his arms.

 

 

  
Silence.

 

Malloree was highly sated, flying high in the sky of peace.

 

"Lass." He said, catching her attention.

 

"Mmm."

 

He lifted his head to stare at her, his eyes now serious, "Promise me. Promise me you won't go back to that place."

 

Malloree took in his demand, not wanting to upset him with her answer.

 

"I will not do another contract, but I am their listener, I have to show up every now and then. But, you'll be with me this time."

 

Brynjolf just stared at her, but nodded his head, excepting this answer.

 

 

  
The two of them had managed to pull themselves out of the bed, their growling stomachs doing them in.

 

As they sat and munched on some bread and seared slaughterfish, Malloree flipped through a book that had showed up on their table.

 

Helgen: Rebuild

 

"Where'd you get that from, lass?" Brynjolf questioned, raising a red eyebrow.

 

Malloree shrugged, "I'm not sure, I just found it on the table just now. Apparently, according to this text, Helgen is being rebuilt." She said to him, looking up in confusion.

 

"Why would they decide to rebuild it now? Didn't know they could spare the laborers."

 

Malloree wasn't sure either, the whole thing didn't make much sense to her.

 

"Well, it says the man is in Falkreath. Maybe we should go check it out?"

 

Brynjolf shrugged and nodded, "Well, why not? It is where you first encountered your dragon. Miss Dovahkiin."

 

Malloree glared at him, "Please don't call me that. It makes me feel like some sort of freak."

 

Brynjolf scowled, "You're not a freak lassie, you're special. You're the Dragonborn, Harbinger, and the leader of a prestigious thieves guild, and a damn good thief."

 

She smiled slightly, reaching her hand out to squeeze his fingers.

 

"Thank you. But, it's not you that treats me like a freak, i-it's everyone else. Everybody just expects me to do everything for them. Just lay my life on the line all the time."

 

Brynjolf nodded, sighing soundly. Before he could say anything though, screams from outside caught their attention.

 

Malloree bolted from her chair, descending the stairs to grab her daedric bow and two quivers of daedric arrows. Running out of the basement doors, she saw people running down the pavement.

 

"Dragon!"

 

"Run away!"

 

Malloree ran through the crowd, being shoved every which way.

 

"Blaise! Alesan!" She yelled, looking around for her children.

 

"Ma!"

 

They were running towards her, screaming as a wave of fire lit up the sky.

 

Running into her arms, they held onto her.

 

"Get inside the house!" She told them, "Right now!"

 

Nodding, they bolted away from her.

 

Malloree watched the gigantic, winged creature as it soared through the sky, breathing fire into the air.

 

She needed to use dragonrend, there was no point fighting it in the sky.

 

"Lass!"

 

Brynjolf was by her side in an instant.

 

"Kill it!" The guards yells caught their ears, as the Dragon finally landed in the square where the guards practiced their combat skills.

 

Malloree watched as one man was burned alive, and another was ripped in half. Flinching, she wanted to look away, but knew she had a job to do. She couldn't afford to be squeamish right now.

 

She could use her fire breath shout, but she didn't want to hit the men around the Dragon, so she proceeded to notch arrow after arrow into the beast.

 

It rose itself back into the sky, and Malloree gathered her dragonrend, inhaling, then letting the shout fly...

 

"Joor Zah Frul!"

 

The blue energy hit the creature dead on, and he landed in the same spot he had just left.

 

"I'll tear you apart!" Brynjolf yelled at him, firing arrows at him as well.

 

The Dragon was bloodied, signaling his defeat close at hand.

 

Another arrow and they had taken it down, the scream of death hitting the air, making Malloree want to cover her ears.

 

After the Dragon fell over, blood coating its skin, it finally started to disintegrate, the skin on the huge bones sizzling away, the soul leaving its body.

 

Malloree was never prepared for the soul as it smashed into her. It was always uncomfortable, especially if there were people around. They would always ask her tons of questions, some making loud acts of awe towards her. There was one time where a necromancer had stalked her and Brynjolf down the road after the absorption, attacking her, telling her he wanted to do 'tests'.

 

Brynjolf cut him down immediately, taking pleasure in ending the crazy man's life.

 

"Lass."

 

A hand was being held out to her, and she gladly took it, being enveloped into her husbands arms.

 

"Let's go home now. Alright?"

 

Malloree nodded, moving her bow to where it now sat on her shoulder, exciting about the fire that awaited her in her home.

 

 

 

Another chapter done. It would have been done earlier, but my computer hates me and shut off, making me loose the entire second chapter. So, I had to rewrite it. But, I now have a new method of writing, so I won't lose my material.

 

I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

 

Next is the start of the quest Helgen: rebuild. That is a real quest also, but it's a mod.

Review!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beginning their journey...

Malloree and Brynjolf stood outside Falkreath, moving their eyes to the guards that were walking, helmet's firmly in place.

 

This hold was not a favorite of Malloree's, it had bandits swarming around it, not to mention a crypt not too far up the road. This hold had offered her land for a mansion, but she decided against it. For some odd reason they put her beside the crypt, that was full of vampires, and beside a mage that was always worshiping, or summoning something at a stone hedge down the hill.

 

They walked through the town, their guild hoods up, eying everyone who walked by.

 

She wondered if people knew who they were.

 

Probably.

 

Walking upon Dead Man's Drink, they shoved inside, coming face to face with a woman sweeping.

 

The said woman moved her head up, her expression turning to that of shock.

 

"My. One day around this town and you'll have the men wrapped around your finger." She said to Malloree, winking.

 

Malloree heard Brynjolf snicker behind her, and she turned and gave him a dark look, shutting him up promptly.

 

"Well, you'll have nothing to fear with that." Malloree responded, "For my idiot husband would be very angry if I ran around with the men in this town."

 

Brynjolf shoved her shoulder, grumbling under his breath.

 

The woman smiled, and continued to sweep.

 

"Um, I do have a question though, there is a man here, he's new to the area, probably just arrived..."

 

The sentence tethered off, but the woman caught the gist of what Malloree meant.

 

"Aye. A man came in two days ago, he's in the first room, to the right."

 

Malloree nodded, thanking her for her assistance.

  
Poking her head into the room, Malloree's eyes fell upon a balding man sitting at a table across the room.

 

Straightening up, she glided forward, hearing Brynjolf's steps behind her.

 

"Marcus Jannus?" She asked, stopping in front of him.

 

Lifting his head up, his brown eyes took her in, a brow arching in question.

 

"Aye. That's me. Can I help you with something?" He asked, putting his mug of ale down.

 

"Yes. You wanted to see me about rebuilding Helgen? Your courier Patsy gave me a letter at the tavern in Whiterun." Fiddling in her pockets, she pulled out a crickled letter, handing it to him.

 

His eyes raked it over, and he nodded, setting it down.

 

"I did. I never expected to see a beautiful woman though." He said to her, smiling.

 

Brynjolf hmmphed behind her, and stepped out from her back.

 

"Oh. And this is?" Jannus asked, standing up now.

 

"My husband, Brynjolf." She told him, getting a little uncomfortable with the look in Brynjolf's eyes.

 

"I meant no disrespect to your wife, sir." He told the tall, red-headed scot. "I'm actually very surprised that she has made such a huge name for herself."

 

Brynjolf only arched an eyebrow, but nodded his head, crossing his arms.

 

Malloree interjected, "Well, now that we all know each other, what have you asked me here for?"

 

"Yes!" Marcus said, gleefully. "I asked you here because, you are one of the very few survivors of Helgen. Is it true? What happened there?"

 

Malloree closed her eyes, hearing the screams of the townspeople, scrambling to try to take cover from the fire that rained down upon their homes.

 

"Yes." She said, clearing her voice of the emotion.

 

Marcus caught it though, frowning.

 

 

"I've heard it was very...terrible." He said, drinking more of his ale.

 

Silence.

 

"Did you happen to see anyone else escape? Any families? Children?"

 

"I highly doubt it. The entire town was laid to waste." Malloree answered, not liking the topic of Helgen at all.

 

Suddenly, his lips turned into a sad expression, his eyes closing, a heavy sigh escaping. "Yes, that's what I thought...my brother and his family, lost. Gods damn it all. I had hoped that their was a chance that they might have escaped." He finished, laying his forehead on his palm.

 

Malloree felt a rush of pity, knowing what it was like to lose the small bit of hope in your heart, to have it smashed into a million pieces.

 

Shifting her feet, she wrung her hands together, "Unfortunately, if they had happened to escape, the bandits that took over long after, would have probably picked them off."

 

Brynjolf nudged her, grunting at her blatant obliviousness to the man's pain.

 

"Well. That is yet to be determined." He answered, taking a nibble of his bread, "I have it on good authority that a man named Val has taken over the fort. He's head of some mercenaries, they are trying to pick off as many Thalmor as they can."

 

Malloree smirked, looking away.

 

"What is it?" Jannus questioned her.

 

"Well, the Thalmor do not think very highly of me. I've been a thorn in their side for quite a while." She told him, fiddling with her Mehrune's Razor.

 

Smirking, he raised his glass. "I knew there was something I liked about you."

 

Smiling a little bit, Malloree withdrew her hand from the handle of her blade, eyeing him again, "Do you know anything about this man, Val?"

 

Nodding, he cleared his throat, "Yes, his name is Valerius Tiberius Artoria. We served for many years in the Imperial Legion as captains under Titus Mede II, during the Great War."

 

Malloree was suddenly uncomfortable again, knowing how that Emperor had turned up.

 

At the end of her blade.

 

"But, he is dead now. Assassinated by the dark brotherhood. Bastards."

 

Malloree raised an eyebrow, but decided to keep her mouth shut.

 

Silence.

 

"Val was a good man back in those days, a good warrior. And an honorable man. Then, the Aldmeri invaded and murdered his wife, son and daughter in cold blood."

 

Feeling pity bubble up for this man Val, Malloree saw the emotion run across the other man's face, wondering if maybe...

 

No. That was stupid.

 

"I'm sorry about your friends family, but what has this got to do with me?" She questioned.

 

Nodding, he continued, "Yes, I need you to go and try to talk to Valerius. Tell him I need to see him, and I request a meeting. Tell him I'll come to the fort alone-present company excluded."

 

Malloree raised an eyebrow, continuing to listen.

 

Reaching in his pocket, Marcus grasped a ring, looking at it, closing his eyes, but handing it to her.

 

"It was his wife's ring. Please, give it to him."

 

Malloree saw the pain all over the man's face, knowing instantly what his problem was.

 

But, instead of saying anything, she just nodded, putting it gently into her pocket.

 

"Now, if any of his men stop you. Which they will, show them the ring, tell them it's a good gesture from me."

 

Malloree nodded.

 

"They'll give you quarter if they know I sent you. Approach the guards and show them the ring. Please though, please don't let them take it."

 

Malloree nodded again, "I swear I won't let them take it."

 

"Show them this note with my seal, but tell them it's for Valerius- his eyes only." He said, with finality.

 

"Please, make haste, and return to me as soon as possible. I'll get my things ready to go for your return."

 

  
Her and Brynjolf made their way to Helgen, encountering necromancers, and beasts alike.

 

In the dead of night, while they were walking, she turned to her husband, breaking the silence.

 

"He loved her." She said, sighing lightly.

 

"Of course he did, she was his wife." He responded.

 

Malloree rolled her eyes.

 

_Men._

 

"No. Marcus Jannus loved her as well. Could you not tell?"

 

Raising a brow, he shook his head.

 

"How are men so blind to feelings?" She asked.

 

"Hey now. I'm not blind to feelings." He grumbled, kicking a rock that lay beneath his feet.

 

Malloree's jaw dropped and she stopped walking, crossing her arms over her chest.

 

He stopped as well, turning to her, confused at her reaction.

 

"What?"

 

"You are too blind to feelings! You don't remember after we returned from killing Mercer Frey, how you ignored me?"

 

Brynjolf smiled wickedly, "Oh aye, I remember that night very distinctively, we got into that huge fight in the training room. And it escalated to..."

 

Punching his shoulder, she told him to shut up, a blush spreading over her cheeks.

 

"You were ignoring me for near a month." She said, voice low, the pain from the experience popping up again.

 

"Lass. I was going through a whirlpool of emotions, I had never felt that way towards a woman. I've had...conquests, but they were never what it was with you. Ever."

 

Her blue eyes found his emerald ones in the dark.

 

"I had never fallen for a woman. Not even as a lad, not...ever."

 

"Why?" She questioned, genueily astounded that Brynjolf had had no loves in his life.

 

"No woman was attracted to a thieving scoundrel. No matter how handsome he was."

 

"Don't flatter yourself." She said, rolling her eyes.

 

"What? Ye don't think I'm handsome?" He asked, his tone almost childlike.

 

"No." She said, hoping he believed her horrible lie.

 

Suddenly, he grabbed her bicep, crushing her against his hard chest, backing her into the tree behind her.

 

How cliché.

 

But, it was there none the less.

 

"Oh, ye don't, do you?" He asked her, green eyes sparkling in the dark, his accent thicker with the hoarseness of his voice.

 

Malloree's throat went dry.

 

Brynjolf arched a brow high, and Malloree felt her knees turn to mush, heart pounding so hard against her chest, she thought it would give out.

 

No, her husband wasn't handsome, he was...sexy.

 

Hot.

 

He oozed sex appeal, all the time.

 

After seeing her expression, his smirk grew into a full-faced smile. Pulling away, he laughed heartily, holding his sides.

 

"Y-You...brute." She said, huffing and turning away, power walking down the road.

 

"Wait up!" He called after her, still laughing.

 

Malloree smiled a little bit, feeling her heart still thudding lightly. She did stop walking though, not wanting him to lag too far behind.

 

When he caught up, he touched her shoulder gently, turning her to face him.

 

"You know I was playing with you, lassie."

 

Malloree nodded, and they continued to walk down the road.

  
"You do know that you're a very attractive man." She told him, a little bit later.

 

"Is that so?"

 

Malloree looked at him blankly.

 

Silence.

 

"You're telling me you don't notice the stares of women when we walk into towns?" She questioned, honestly curious if he was that blind to how attractive he was.

 

"Not at all." He said, not saying anything after that.

 

"Y-You're kidding, right?" Malloree asked, getting a little flustered.

 

"I've never thought of myself as particularly...handsome. Maybe it a brutish way."

 

That was true as well.

 

"W-Well, you are very handsome."

 

Silence.

 

She was now curious.

 

"Do you think I'm attractive?" She asked him.

 

Silence.

 

"Lass." He started, clearing his throat.

 

"W-What?"

 

More silence.

 

He stopped walking, catching her hand to stop her as well, but this time, there was no humor on his face.

 

"You are...so beautiful. You must know that?"

 

Malloree only shrugged, "Well, I've always been an outcast, I've never been much of a talker, or very good with feelings. I-I had n-never...uh, been intimate with a man before you. I think everyone has always thought of me as a mute."

 

He was staring at her still.

 

"Then, I came into my body when I was about sixteen. And then, men stared at me. But, they only stared at my arse, mainly."

 

Brynjolf smirked then, "Well, it is such a fine arse. Men can't help but to stare. Especially in that guild armor."

 

Malloree chuckled lightly, and tugged his hand so they were walking again. If they wanted to make it to Helgen before morning, they needed to keep going.

 

  
Marcus was not lying when he said they would encounter mercenaries when they entered Helgen, as soon as they had the lock picked, a man carrying an Orcish warhammer was running at them, his name Balfring Firescale.

 

"Stop right there! Don't even think about moving. You see my friends coming? They won't hesitate to kill you, if you so much as breathe funny." He growled.

 

Malloree felt Brynjolf move beside her, drawing his sword.

 

"Now. Who are you, and what is the meaning of this intrusion? Speak quickly, wench."

 

Malloree didn't move to drag out her dagger, instead she held her hands up. "Easy now, we're not here to cause any trouble."

 

The man laughed loudly, moving his Warhammer to strike out at her, "Oh, funny bitch, eh? How about I gut you like a horker?"

 

Malloree kept her cool, "I have an urgent matter that I need to discuss with Valerius. I know he's here." She said to him, catching a flash of surprise flit across his rugged features.

 

"Never heard of that man. He's not here. Now, be on your way, we don't want to slay you where you stand." He growled, getting extremely impatient.

 

"Are you sure?" She questioned him, knowing she was treading on thin ice, "A man named Marcus Jannus sent me here to discuss an important matter."

 

"No! I told you he's not here. And I don't know this man, Marcus Jannus either. I'm starting to lose my patience with you, woman." He snapped.

 

Malloree was starting to get aggravated as well, how dense did this man think she was?

 

"Look." She started, crossing her arms, "You're no bandits, I've fought many bandits, and they never gave warning before they were attacking me."

 

Silence.

 

"I don't know who you are, or want you want..." He started, "But I advise you to use your smart words wisely before you start speaking next."

 

The ring!

 

Malloree fished in her pockets, her fingers encircling the gold band. "Here! This is from Marcus, it's Val's wife's wedding ring."

 

The man raised a brow, but extended his hand to her, snatching the gold band to his eyes, taking in the detail, and her words.

 

More silence.

 

"Did you say Marcus Jannus? From the war Marcus Jannus? Well, lass, why didn't you say so?"

 

Malloree sighed and looked away.

 

Stupid man.

 

 

The man led her and Brynjolf inside the Helgen keep, nudging them both in.

 

A deep voice boomed through the air, "Balfring! What in Sovngarde do you think you're doing? And who is this bitch you've brought in here?!"

 

Bitch?

Malloree let it go though, not wanting to cause any trouble.

 

"Sorry sir, but she has an urgent message from Marcus Jannus, and she seemed non-threatening."

 

The man in the steel-plated armor looked confused for a moment, a look of shock coming and going in an instant, then was replaced by fury.

 

"That's impossible Balfring! Have you gone completely mad?"

 

"Believe me sir, I thought the same thing, until she pulled out a sealed letter, and the hand-writing is no doubt from Jannus."

 

Val turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "Well, you've come with news from a man who is supposedly Marcus, now, have any other proof?"

 

Malloree nodded, fishing out his wife's ring, and suddenly, the man's face went red, fury taking over his features.

 

He drew an iron dagger, but Malloree was quicker...

 

Her daedric bow was out, a daedric arrow notched, the destination right between his eyes.

 

"I wouldn't move if I were you." She snapped, seeing Brynjolf's bow trained on him as well, "You move to strike and this arrow goes through your skull." She breathed dangerously, and his stance wavered, the men around him looking between them with alarm.

 

Silence.

 

Val sighed, sheathing his dagger once more, and Malloree let the arrow loose, moving back to the quiver on her back.

 

"Let me see that ring." He told her, not catching her eyes. Looking to the men, he ordered them away, and they left shortly after, their eyes staying on her and Brynjolf.

 

She handed it to him, and for a moment, she thought his knees would give out on him. Gritting his teeth, he tightened the little piece of jewelry in his hand, eyes quivering, sniffling lightly.

 

Malloree felt sorry for him. He was trying very hard to hold back his tears. Finally, he unclenched his fist, taking a deep breath in, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

 

"W-Where is Marcus, now?" He asked her, his eyes flitting to Brynjolf.

 

"Falkreath, awaiting your answer." She replied, seeing him shove the ring into his pocket.

 

"Who are you?" He asked Brynjolf.

 

"Her husband." He answered, moving to stand beside her now.

 

"I see. Protecting her, huh?" Val questioned, quietly.

 

"No." Brynjolf replied, taking Val off guard suddenly. "I'm watching her back. She does not need protection, I assure you."

 

Malloree smiled, looking at the ground.

 

"I understand." Val said, patting his pocket again, "Do you know how Marcus got ahold of this ring?"

 

Malloree had an idea, but decided to just say, "He must have found it left behind after you were imprisoned."

 

Val nodded, taking that as the answer, looking away thoughtfully.

 

"I guess that is acceptable, it's just...this is so much to take in." He said, still looking away.

 

No doubt about that.

 

Malloree didn't know what to say to him. She was never good at expressing emotion.

 

"U-Um, I'm sorry for your loss." She finished, feeling foolish at her stammering.

 

He then looked at her once again, his face haunted by his inner demons.

 

"Thank you."

 

Malloree just nodded.

 

"They were so dear to me, I nearly lost my mind when I found out they had been tortured and killed by those Altmer bastards."

 

Brynjolf shifted beside her, the tension in the air suffocating both of them.

 

Val was not finished though.

 

"I sought vengeance afterwards. Every day of my life was nothing but the need to make them pay for what they had done."

 

Silence...

 

  
After some time, after the awkwardness of the painful past, Val got around to reading Marcus's letter, chuckling at the familiarity of his friends words.

 

"This is definitely him. But, how did he find out I was here?"

 

"Well, he heard a bandit by the name of Val had taken over the fort here, he assumed it was you."

 

"Ha ha ha. I guess that's not too far from the truth. We've become nothing but rabble here. All we do is live our lives in the shadows, hiding and skulking about like some caged animal looking for their next meal."

 

Brynjolf spoke up this time.

 

"What's wrong with living in the shadows?" He asked, annoyance clipping his tone.

 

Val turned his stony expression to the taller red-head.

 

"Have I offended you?"

 

Silence.

 

Malloree decided to just break the ice, and let the truth be known.

 

"We're thieves." She told Val, "I'm the guild master of the thieves guild in Riften. Brynjolf is my second. We...well, he takes offense to being called a caged animal. As thieves, we live our lives in the darkness."

 

Val nodded, looking them both over. "Yes, I thought your armor's were very...familiar. I take it you don't plan to steal from anyone here?"

 

Her and Brynjolf shook their heads.

 

"Good. I have no right to judge what other's do with their lives. Whatever puts gold in your pockets, aye?"

 

Then, they nodded.

 

Silence.

 

Val then spoke once more, as if coming to a conclusion about something.

 

"You may return to Marcus, tell him he will be welcomed here. Now, I can't say he'll be thrilled about seeing me, especially with how I am now. Well, at-least we'll get to part with good-byes, last time we got nothing but whispers."

 

Malloree nodded her head.

 

 

Her and Brynjolf set off for Falkreath, dragging their feet as they did so. About half way there, Brynjolf spoke up, "Lass, when we've talked to this man, we should stay at the inn. I'm about to drop and you don't look close behind me."

 

Malloree only nodded, trying to keep her exhaustion behind a stoic expression.

 

It didn't work though.

 

He could always read her too well.

  
They made it to Dead Man's Drink, finding Marcus sleeping on his bed, his back turned towards them.

 

Malloree shook him lightly, making him jerk.

 

"W-Who is it?" He demanded.

 

"Malloree." She answered, "I've returned with Val's answer."

 

Marcus shot off the bed then, waiting on her to tell him his friends answer.

 

"He said to tell you that you're welcome in Helgen."

 

Marcus looked very pleased, thanked them, then shooed them out of his room, promising he'd leave first thing in the morning.

  
Her and Brynjolf rented a room, getting a little bit of food as well, stuffing their faces with the sustenance immediately.

 

Afterwards, they stripped and laid down.

 

Brynjolf extinguished the flame beside them, turning to his wife, pushing her back to his chest.

 

He loved the smell of her skin, she always smelled of purple mountain flowers and the leather of her guild armor.

Intoxicating.

 

Running his fingers down her arm, he softly kissed her neck, hearing her groan tiredly, "Brynjolf, I'm exhausted."

 

"I know lassie, I can do all the work, all you have to do is lay there." He said, gripping her bottom with his rough palms.

 

She then squirmed, feeling the heat run to her core, her bottom grinding against his hardened manhood.

 

His mouth continued to nip at her sensitive skin on her neck, now trailing to bite at the skin at the juncture of her collar bone.

 

Malloree groaned softly, feeling his hand graze her belly button at the same time he kissed her soft skin.

 

"P-Please." She said, hearing his moan rumble against her flesh.

 

Then, his fingers delved deeper, rubbing her woman's mound, making her arch to get his hand closer.

 

"Yes." She said, reaching behind her to grip one of the taunt thighs that laid on her hips. Gods, he was such a beautifully chiseled specimen.

 

"B-Brynjolf, please." She begged him, spreading her thighs wider, relishing the wetness he brought to her.

 

"Do you want it lass?" He questioned her, his voice low, notes in his tone trembling slightly.

 

She nodded, not sure if she could bear another moment of his teasing.

 

His hand left her core, going upwards to her leg, spreading them once again, positioning himself against her slickness, hooking her inner thigh around his fingers, bringing the back of her womanhood to him, so he could slip through.

 

The depth of this position was deep, and Malloree felt his girth overwhelm her for a moment.

 

Moaning, he gripped her ear with his teeth, moving his hips in slow, languid movements.

 

Gods.

 

Malloree wound her hand down to play with her clit, jerking at the little pleasurable spurts that ran up her spine, wishing he'd pick up his speed a little bit.

 

"G-Go faster, please?"

 

Brynjolf complied, holding her leg up higher, thrust to the hilt inside of her now.

 

Malloree clenched her left hand into the furs beneath them, grunting, feeling her end building and building until her breath caught in her lungs.

 

Brynjolf loved the feel of her wet, tight walls gripping his girth, it felt bloody amazing. She was so very tight, just as tight as she had been when he took her on the ground of the training room, not able to hold in his passion for her any longer.

 

He heard her as she came, panting his name over and over into the night air, thrusting her hips back against his pelvis, her walls fluttering.

 

He was coming then, smashing his lips to the back of her hair, grunting, gripping, clenching, thrusting vigorously until the last of his seed left his manhood.

Afterwards, they both fell asleep promptly, exhausted the day, ready to tackle the rest of the quest the next day.

 

 

There! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please leave me a comment, telling me if you did or not.

Love,  
Heather.


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